Some of you have carried this for as long as you can remember.

You did not sit down one afternoon and choose it. It was there in the schoolyard. It was there when other boys or other girls started to wake up to the opposite sex, and your heart did not move the same way. You prayed. You bargained. You asked God to take it. And when the feeling stayed, a quieter question settled in: Then did You make me like this?

The church must not mock that story. A young person who has felt different for years is not helped by being called a liar, a pretender, or “just rebellious.” Jesus never crushed the bruised reed. If that is you, hear this plainly: your pain is seen. Your tears have been counted. You are not disgusting to the Lord who made you.

But beloved, “I have felt this since I was young” is not the same sentence as “God wrote this over my life and called it good.”

We were all born into a world that is not the way God first made it. Something broke in the garden, and every one of us came out of our mother’s womb already leaning away from God. That is not only “their” story. That is our story.

David did not say this as a man making excuses. He said it as a man on his face:

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.
Psalm 51:5

He was not blaming his mother. He was telling the truth about the human heart. We do not become sinners the first time we act. We act because something in us is already bent. Being born with a pull does not make the pull holy. It only proves that we need a Saviour from the start.

Some will say, “But science will prove we are born this way.” Even if researchers one day mapped every gene, every hormone, every early wound, and every pattern in the brain, that map would still not outrank the Word of God. Biology can describe a vulnerability. It cannot issue a blessing. Romans does not get rewritten in a laboratory.

Look around the church and you will see the same principle in other clothes. A brother did not choose the thirst that keeps drawing him back to the bottle. A sister did not choose the fear that turns into control. Many men did not choose the appetite that makes a woman’s body on a screen feel like air. Those pulls can be early. They can be strong. They can feel like “me.” And still Jesus does not say, “If it is strong and early, it is sacred.”

He says something better, and harder, and more full of hope:

That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, “You must be born again.”
John 3:6–7

There is a first birth. You received it from Adam. That birth explains why desire can be crooked before you ever had language for it.

There is a second birth. You receive it from Christ. That birth does not always silence every old feeling on the first night. But it does give you a new heart, a new Master, and a new name. It means the loudest voice in you is no longer allowed to be lord.

So if you have said, “I was born this way,” you may be describing the ache honestly. Just do not stop there. The gospel is not, “Stay as you were born in Adam.” The gospel is, “Come and be born from above.”

Jesus is not asking you to pretend the feeling never existed. He is asking you to stop treating the feeling as the truest thing about you. The truest thing about you, if you belong to Him, is not the bent. It is the blood. Not the old nature. The new creation. Not “this is how I came into the world.” This is how He came into the world for you.

And if the knock of that old desire still comes some mornings, it does not mean He failed you. It means you still need Him. That is not a curse. That is the Christian life. We live from the first birth and the second birth at once, until the day He finishes what He started and every crooked thing is made straight.

Until that day, do not call the wound a gift just because you did not choose it. Bring the wound to the wounded Saviour. He was born into our flesh so that we could be born into His life.